


An Angry Snowball

by Green_Sphynx



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Actual literal fluff, Don't even look at me posting a G rated fic, Fluff, Holiday Presents, Kitten, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-23
Updated: 2018-12-23
Packaged: 2019-09-25 11:34:14
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,211
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17120588
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Green_Sphynx/pseuds/Green_Sphynx
Summary: Len wasn't sure why - possibly that large, innocent and happy grin - but he took the box in reflex before he could think better of it."Happy Holidays, Len."And with that the Flash disappeared as if in thin air, leaving Len on his porch with a large cardboard box that was meowing at him.





	An Angry Snowball

**Author's Note:**

> A fanfic for ColdWave Winter Week 2018  
> 23rd Dec - Domestic
> 
> I don't know where this came from or why but apparently I wrote it. Please proceed with caution and a toothbrush.

It was a big, high box in an alleyway by a large trash container and it was moving.

A moving box in a dark alley? That could not be good. Luckily the Flash was here to check if there was a meta hiding in the box, or something less dangerous.

'Dangerous' was a subjective term, because the white kitten with the bright blue eyes lashed out with nastily sharp nails when Barry cooed at the litter of kittens on the box, reaching in for them. It was the only kitten hissing, because the rest was busy trying to climb out with sad meows, shivering at the cold despite being in an enclosed space together.

When Barry gently petted a few of them to make sure they were at least all moving, the white one clung to his wrist with all twenty needles of nails to be lifted out of the box.

A feisty one, intent on escaping after protecting his siblings. Barry knew just what to do with him - after bringing the rest of the litter to the closest shelter.

 

When the doorbell rang Len just rolled his eyes, looking up from his book with a frown to consider if it would be worth getting up for. Probably some people here to reform him to their faith because it was Christmas time, or maybe some kids carrying old newspapers trying to get some spare change in this 'season of giving'. But it could also me the mailman, because it was never impossible that Mick ordered something without Len knowing. And he was expecting some tools in the mail soon himself too; they might've made the package too large for the regular mail.

With the deepest, most put-upon sigh he pushed the plush blanket off his legs and put his hot chocolate down safely on the coffee table, far away from his book. He trudged over to the door and peeked through the peeking hole first to make sure he wasn't wasting his time - only to find the person he least expected. Pretty sure this guy wasn't supposed to know about this address.

He let the door swing open, leaning against the door frame and crossing his arms. "Well, well, if it isn't the Flash himself on my doorstep. Come to look for shelter, because I might have a manger in the back?"

The Flash just grinned at him, that stupidly happy grin that made Len nervous because surely the hero wasn't supposed to look so innocent, smiling at a criminal, and then held out a big cardboard box with holes in the side. Len wasn't sure why - possibly that large, innocent and happy grin - but he took the box in reflex before he could think better of it.

"Happy Holidays, Len."

And with that the Flash disappeared as if in thin air, leaving Len on his porch with a large cardboard box that was meowing at him.

"What the _fuck_?" Len lifted the lid to peer inside, finding a fluffy white kitten with large blue eyes. "A kitten? The fucking Flash is giving me a _kitten_?" It was too awkward to keep talking to himself on the porch after that expression of shock - because he was very much alone on his porch, with absolutely no trace of the Flash left aside from the boxed cat. He contemplated for a second to leave the box on the porch for the Flash to pick it back up, but he decided against it almost immediately.

He was a criminal, not a monster. He wasn't going to leave a kitten out in the freezing cold because the Flash wanted to play a prank on him.

Len kicked the door closed behind him as he carried the box inside, glaring down the kitten in the box as he walked to the kitchen table. The kitten was keeping up with a glare of its own, and Len had to admit that took guts. He could appreciate that.

"What's in the box?"

Mick had appeared in the door to the garage, rubbing oil from his hands with a very dirty rag.

"A kitten." Len sneered in distaste.

The kitten sneered back.

_He could appreciate that_ .

"The fuck?" Mick stalked close to peer into the box, eyebrows raising up high on his forehead. "The fuck you're doin' with a cat, Len?"

"Still deciding." Len crossed his arms over his chest, holding the cats gaze for a long few moments until the kitten mewled. A teeny tiny mew that was too adorable to be legal. Not that Len cared about _legal_ but he didn't care for being manipulated either.

"If you're trying to plead for your case, you should've done so before the Flash dumped you on a hardened pair of criminals," Len pointed out - once again, because he wasn't a _monster_. The creature had the right to know where this all went wrong.

Mick gave him an odd look but didn't comment, pulling away to shuffle back to the garage instead. "Yeah well, have fun with it. It better not piss on our bed."

Len scoffed, eyes flickering to Mick for just a moment to see him disappear through the door. With the coast clear, he leaned over the box and lowered his voice. "You won't piss on our bed, will you? You're a decent kitten with a good upbringing." Or that was his assumption. The kitten looked old enough to be ready to leave its mother, so he was likely potty trained. Litter trained. _Trained_.

Len frowned at the box though, because it wasn't exactly offering anything. No litter, no food, no water. This was not a way to keep a kitten.

Len quickly checked into the garage to make sure Mick was occupied and not minding him and closed the door, as well as the door to the living room so the kitchen was an enclosed space. He put the box down on the floor, carefully tipping it over to give the kitten time to adjust. His new feline friend was not too eager to come storming out of its prison immediately, but Len could understand that. He wasn't as eager to explore when he was small and scared in a strange place either, after all.

Len first arranged a bowl of water, putting it on the floor close to the box so the kitten would find it once it ventured out, and then opened the fridge to find some cat-proof food in there.

Milk? They always showed cats with milk in images, but that didn't mean anything. A quick search online told him that no, milk was definitely a bad idea, so he skipped the option to look at the raw meats and deepfrozen fish. Boiled but unseasoned white fish was supposedly a good thing. Len could work with that.

By the time Len had a small portion of white fish sawed off the large frozen fillet and slipped it in a pot of boiling water, the kitten had dared to make his exit from the box. Len found it sniffing at the water when he turned around, and he couldn't help the smile on his face. A smile that soon faded as he realised he still needed a litterbox.

A sandbox would have to do for now.

Len grabbed an apple chest on his way out the backyard, scooping it full of sand from the large heap in the back that they pretended was for future tiling of the garden (it was for Mick's arsonist hobbies, of course), bringing it back and placing it firmly in the corner of the kitchen to let the cat hear something was put down. The tricky part would be shooing the kitten to the litterbox to make sure he knew where to find it, without scaring it.

Len felt like an idiot, waddling slowly after a kitten through the kitchen to get it in the right direction, but after five minutes or so he had successfully herded the cat into the litterbox and he could life it to sniff and explore.

He gave the kitten a bit of privacy to do its business in the box by turning his back and draining the fish, shredding it to little bite-sized flakes into a bowl. When he turned to see where the kitten had gone now he just go to see it fleeing away from his feet and under the kitchen table.

"Hey now, no need to be so skittish. I got you food." Len didn't move, just crouched and held out the bowl of fish towards the kitten. It stayed hidden behind a dirty pair of Mick's boots for a few seconds longer before slowly stalking forward, step by careful step, following its nose to the fish.

"There you go. Good kid." Len stretched as far as he could without moving from his place to put the bowl as close to the kitten as possible. The kitten wolfed down the fish like he was starving, making Len frown in worry.

Where the hell had the Flash gotten this kitten? Why was in a cardboard box instead of a carrier, and why was it looking so starved? Len hadn't taken the Flash for an animal abuser.

"Eat up, buddy. I'll make sure you won't go hungry again." He smirked at himself, adding, "Over my cold body."

He was rudely ignored - kitten had its priorities down now - so Len stood and stared to assemble ingredients for his and Mick's dinner instead. It was growing late and Mick was going to be hungry after tinkering in the garage all day - and more importantly Len didn't want to leave the kitten unsupervised.

The kitten spent most of the time Len was working on dinner with careful exploration of all corners of the kitchen and Len's shoes. Whenever Len moved the kitten fled immediately to hide behind Mick's discarded boots, but the longer it went on the less jumpy the kitten became. Len made sure to 'accidentally' drop something off the counter for the kitten to eat, and next he knew there were razorsharp little nails in his leg and he was being climbed like a tree.

"Ow- ow fuck, that hurts!" He had to drop everything to pull the kitten off his leg - and it wasn't letting go without a fight - and put it back on the floor. "Don't do that," he warned, glaring the kitten down.

The kitten glared back, but didn't try to climb Len again, so that was a win.

Or it was a win until Len turned back to the food and the kitten immediately pounced again, jumping to land with all nails into Len's leg.

_"Fuck!"_

"Making a new friend?"

Len scowled at Mick coming in, but at least Mick closed the door behind him so there wasn't much complaining he could do.

"He just wants on the counter, is all," Len grit out between his teeth, tearing the kitten off and placing it further away from the counter now. With Mick's new presence the kitten was back to hiding behind Mick's old boots, so Len could have a moment of respite and finish up dinner.

"Why'd you let him out anyway?"

"Nobody likes being locked in a tiny prison, Mick," Len drawled, making sure to make it sound logical. It wasn't because the kitten was adorable. Or because the white fur was so indescribably _soft_ or those eyes so very blue. Len just felt for a fellow prisoner, and that was all it was.

Said fellow prisoner gave them quite the dinner show, though. After several minutes of staying in hiding, it came out to pull on Len's shoelaces, to Mick's sadistic amusement. Len pulled the rubber band from a roll of blueprints on the table to throw it to the kitten on the floor and it somehow managed to entertain itself with it for a solid fifteen minutes, running around with the band in its mouth, batting at it and chasing it.

It was only after several minutes of just watching that Len realised both he and Mick were done eating and unable to tear their eyes away from the kitten. Maybe he should comment… but then maybe he shouldn't. It would be better if Mick fell for the little bugger himself.

When the kitten got tired of playing and flopped down on the floor the two men finally snapped out of it. Mick cleared his throat a little more awkwardly then Len was used to of him, and quickly stood to gather the dishes. Len got dessert from the fridge, only to find his seat taken when he returned.

"We got a little thief on our hands," Len muttered fondly. Dessert was put down and the kitten picked up, taken on his lap when siting down. The kitten apparently had no problems with being made a lap cat. It rolled into a ball and fell asleep as if it was meant to be there.

Mick stood next to Len for a long few moments before sighing, and then barking a short laugh. "As long as he doesn't piss on the bed, Len."

Len dragged his fingers gently over the soft white fur, smiling down at the kitten. "As long as he doesn't piss on the bed."


End file.
